


if you could love me again

by IWillNotBeSilenced



Series: nothing like the rain [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Comfort, Crushing, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, Major Illness Warning, Mashton, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5156522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillNotBeSilenced/pseuds/IWillNotBeSilenced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been a one-time thing. Little more than a drunken fumble in some dodgy Adelaide bar. That was all. After all, when you’re on the road so often, and for so long, things get lonely. It was understandable. Ash had never mentioned it again, and neither had Michael.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you could love me again

Michael stared straight ahead, periodically cracking his knuckles, wondering when exactly the dressing room floor had begun to look so comfortable. He was vaguely aware of the hyperactivity of his bandmates as they psyched themselves up for the show that currently sat 15 minutes ahead of them. His skin felt hot and dry, and there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room, increasing the tightness that he hadn’t seemed to have been able to shake from his chest these last few weeks. Sound check had gone well that afternoon, they’d gone out for milkshakes before heading back, all four enthusiastic and eager to get on stage for the evening’s performance. He wasn’t nervous. He rarely was for these smaller performances. He knew that, and he knew that the others did too, which is why, amongst Luke and Calum’s mad wrestling on the floor, and Ashton tying his bandana for around the thirtieth time, he could feel the boys shooting worried looks at him from their various positions to where he sat on the faded sofa stationed against the wall. The sofa was positioned to the left of a small, ceramic sink, mounted on the wall. The smooth porcelain looked cool, a stark contrast to the heat of Michael’s skin, and before he’d really thought about it, he could feel himself tilting sideways, just enough that he could rest his forehead against the side of it. Apparently, that was all it took for Ashton to stop staring, his forehead creased in concern, and actually come over to crouch on the floor in front of him.  
Ashton’s hazel eyes peered up at Michael from under his curls. ‘Mike?’ He said, quietly enough that it was drowned out by Luke’s strangled yelps as Calum pinned him to the floor.  
‘Mm.’ Michael mumbled in reply, not quite ready to open his eyes to the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room again.  
‘We don’t have to do this you know.’  
Michael willed his eyes to open and focus on the older boy. ‘Yes we do. Ash, don’t be an idiot. We’ve waited months for this gig, and you can hardly play without a guitarist. I’m just tired. Let’s just do tonight, and then I’ll rest, okay?’ He hoped he sounded more convincing to Ash than he had to himself.  
It had been a one-time thing. Little more than a drunken fumble in some dodgy Adelaide bar. That was all. After all, when you’re on the road so often, and for so long, things get lonely. It was understandable. Ash had never mentioned it again, and neither had Michael. Yet, Michael still struggled to shake the feeling of Ashton’s lips, warm and pressing against his own. The way Ash’s muscular body had wrapped itself around him, making Michael feel that, for a moment, things might not be so bad.  
Ashton reached out a hand, resting it on Michael’s knee and squeezing slightly, ever the concerned figure to them all. ‘This has been going on for weeks Mikey. I think I’d feel better if we just called tonight off and got you home. I can take you to the doctors first thing tomorrow.’  
‘Ash.’ Michael jerked his knee slightly, just enough movement to throw of Ash’s worried hand. ‘I’ve got this, yeah?’  
Ashton squinted at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, shaking hands and rasping voice. He nodded once, briskly. ‘Right. You come on with us. Play, sing, whatever. If at any point, and I mean this Mikey, if at any point you need to get off just do it, okay? We’ll manage. Luke can play. Don’t push yourself.’  
Michael closed his eyes again, and nodded slowly against the sink. ‘Got it boss.’  
Ash grinned, nudging Michael’s thigh. ‘Shut it.’  
Jumping to his feet, he turned to the other boys. ‘Get off the floor you two, we’re on in 5.’ Ash gave a mandatory pep talk before every gig. It was expected, and comforting, to some extent. ‘We’ve got this. We’re tight. We’ve been playing better than we have for a while. We’re at the top of our game, so let’s get out there and show these guys what we’ve got.’  
Luke applauded and Calum whooped, sounds that seemed too loud for the small room at the top of the Student’s Union, and that throbbed in Michael’s head. Weakly, he climbed to his feet, cracked a smile, grabbed his guitar and followed behind his bandmates as the bounced their way down to the stage.  
…  
They’d decide to warm up with a slower song. It had been Luke’s idea to go with blink-182’s ‘Even If She Falls’. As Michael took his place on the left side of the tiny stage, he couldn’t help but be glad that the others had rolled with it. This was solidly a Luke and Calum song. Michael had no solos and the guitar mainly consisted of basic chord progressions. He could handle that.  
As Luke’s voice flawlessly riffed the final notes, Michael breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the packed room break into applause. It was hardly raucous, but people’s interests had been piqued- they wanted to hear more.  
‘Hi guys!’ Ashton shouted from behind his drum kit. ‘We’re 5 Seconds of Summer, and next, we’re going to play a super-fast cover of Green Day’s ‘American Idiot.’ We hope you guys like it!’  
This is the part Michael had been dreading. He could feel the sweat beginning to pool at the base of his spine and run from his hairline into his eyes as he bent double, shredding the first chords of one of his favourite songs to play live. It always had been; he got to run around the stage and scream some of his favourite lyrics by a totally legendary band to a crowd of psyched, drunk music-lovers. But tonight, he just wished they’d gone with Something Corporate.  
The music rioted around him, and Michael geared himself up for the first line.  
‘Don’t want to be an American Idiot!’  
Screaming through the next few bars, Michael tried to find that space where he found himself at one with the crowd, a crowd obviously thrilled that this little band were going with well-known punk classics. But as he headed for his next line, he could feel his head starting to swim, and the amp beside him becoming hazy and out of focus. He turned to the boys, attempting to indicate that he’d prefer it if Luke took over from here. But Ash was well into his drumming, and Luke and Calum were strumming at each other’s guitars and it looked like he would just have to take it. He fought against the pain blooming in his chest, stepped up to the mic and screamed.  
‘The subliminal mind- fuck… Fuck.’  
Michael felt all the strength in his knees dissolve and his legs buckled under him. He stumbled back from the mic, let go of his guitar and was aware of the neck of the instrument crashing into his jaw as his head hit the floor and he blacked out.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part in a new series I'm working on. I'm planning on each instalment being a snapshot of events that link together. Hopefully you'll see what I mean when the next part is posted. Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading, as always, feedback would be lovely!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr : peachmuke  
> And on Twitter : bitch_mikeys


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